


like the rush of rock & roll

by angelsaves



Series: oh the thrill of control [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, Praise Kink, Sugar Daddy, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 07:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13899633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: Tony Stark isn't Peter Parker's sugar daddy. He'snot. Unless maybe... he is?





	like the rush of rock & roll

**Author's Note:**

> peter is 17/18 in this. 
> 
> title: lyrics from "sugar daddy," from hedwig & the angry inch
> 
> betaed by the most excellent pageleaf
> 
> update: translation to russian available here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/7119152/18143966 !!!

It's late afternoon at the lab in the Wakandan Outreach Center, where Peter and MJ are studying with Princess Shuri of Wakanda for the summer, and Peter has the feeling he's in over his head. "It's really normal," he insists.

"It's not," MJ says.

"It is!" He looks to Shuri for help. "I bet it happens all the time in Wakanda."

"It happens," Shuri says, "but I would not say _all the time_." She looks delighted, which is frankly hurtful. "I'm sure we have a word for it. Let me ask my brother."

"Do _not_ ask your brother!" Peter reaches out, alarmed, to cover her hands before she can call him with her kimoyo beads.

"Besides, there are American words for it," MJ says, looking smug. "Several, actually. I looked it up."

"MJ!" Peter cries. "Why are you looking up words for my -- perfectly normal --"

"Financial domination." She wraps her mouth around the words like they taste good. "Fin-dom for short. Or there's always _sugar daddy_."

"He's not my --"

"Ooh, sugar daddy! I like that one," Shuri says. "I'm learning so much in America. Brother will be impressed."

"I'm going to _die_ if you tell T'Challa that Tony Stark is my sugar daddy," Peter says, not exaggerating even a little.

"Fine, I will not tell him." Shuri pouts. "He would make such a good face, though."

"Whether or not T'Challa knows it, it's still true," MJ says. "Insert obligatory Schrödinger's Cat-slash-Black Panther joke."

"Explain," Shuri commands, and for a moment, while MJ explains the thought experiment and Shuri counters with the Wakandan version (free of feline harm), Peter thinks they've forgotten about him.

No such luck. " _Anyway_ ," MJ says, turning back to face him, "it's _definitely_ kinky that Tony Stark makes you tell him what to do with his money."

"He doesn't make me," Peter says without thinking. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he claps a hand over it as if he can cram them back in before MJ hears.

Her eyes light up. "So you like it," she says triumphantly.

"I -- no," Peter says. "I mean, it's fine?"

"You like it," Shuri agrees. "That is good. It would be creepy if you did not."

"So, what's your sugar daddy going to buy you next?" MJ asks.

"I haven't decided yet," Peter says, then, helplessly, "He's not my sugar daddy!"

"Denial is so sad," Shuri says to MJ, shaking her head with sorrow.

"I don't like either one of you at all."

"See? Denial," MJ says. "We're your favorites."

Peter sighs. She's not wrong. "Let me guess," he says. "You have an idea of what he should buy me."

"Oh, Peter," MJ says sympathetically. "I have _so many_ ideas."

***

That night, as usual, Peter video-calls Tony from his room at the Center. "Hey, kid," Tony says. "How's it going?"

"Good," Peter says automatically, then blurts out, "Am I your fin-dom? Are you my sugar daddy?"

Tony jumps, coffee splashing everywhere, and curses. "You didn't hear that," he instructs Peter. "And -- what? What makes you think that?"

Peter looks pointedly around the room, which is covered in Stark tech -- mostly not available to the public yet -- and full of expensive books, then back at the camera. "You tell me," he says.

"I mean, I -- could see how -- from a certain point of view, one could -- make certain assumptions," Tony stammers. "But -- I don't -- are you uncomfortable?"

"Nah," Peter says. He tries to lean back in his chair and look cool, but he loses his balance and almost tips out of it. "Shit!"

"Do you need a new desk chair?" Tony asks right away.

Peter pauses, looking at Tony on the computer screen. His pupils are dilated, and his mouth is open a little, and it's... it's not nothing. "Yes," he says. "I do. A nice one."

"Awesome," Tony breathes. "I'll do some research later, get one couriered over by the time you wake up."

"Cool," Peter says. Tony hates being thanked, but... "Can I do anything for you?"

"Kid, you don't have to do --"

"I'm offering," Peter interrupts him. He swallows hard and takes his gamble. "I could jerk off for you."

Tony chokes on his coffee. "Peter!"

"Would you like that?" Peter asks, forging ahead. "If I just -- went for it, and let you watch?"

"Jesus, kid!" Tony licks his lips, his eyes gone even darker. "You can't just..."

"It's not like I'd be doing anything I don't usually do," Peter goes on. "After we talk, even."

"You -- really? After we talk?" Tony is staring at him now, openly, hungrily, and Peter likes it a lot.

"Yeah," he says. "Duh. You're, like --"

"Don't talk about me," Tony says firmly. "This is about you."

"Okay, well, _I_ get really turned on, and I'm young and healthy, so what else am I going to do?"

"I don't know," Tony says. "What are you going to do?"

"Karen? Fix the camera angle," Peter says.

"Fixing camera angle," agrees the AI, and Peter gets onto the bed, opening his jeans and shoving them down off his hips. He knows exactly how good a view that's going to give Tony.

"Oh, kid," Tony says softly when Peter pulls his dick out. He's been in locker rooms, he knows it's pretty middle-of-the-road as far as dicks go, but the way Tony is looking at it is making him feel pretty special. "What are you gonna do with that?"

Peter laughs a little. "Take a guess," he suggests, reaching for the lube on his bedside table. It came in a box with a whole bunch of high-end personal care products that had shown up on Peter's doorstep the day after he'd mentioned running low on toothpaste.

"You could choke me with it," Tony says, and shit, _shit_ , Peter has to pinch his thigh or he'll embarrass himself. "You like that idea, huh?"

"Jesus," Peter says. "Yeah." He rubs his palmful of lube slowly over his dick. He's going to draw this out if it kills him. "Would you go down on your knees for me?"

"Fuck yeah, I would," Tony says. "Right in front of the fancy desk chair I'm gonna buy you, and you can fuck my mouth --"

"Maybe I don't want to do that much work," Peter says, stroking himself so, so slowly. "Maybe I want you to show off for me."

"I can do that," Tony says immediately. "I'm great with my mouth, obviously."

Peter laughs. "That's more like it," he says, getting into a rhythm with his right hand and using his left to ruck up his shirt a little. From the sound Tony makes, that was a good choice. "Keep going."

"Mouth, mouth," Tony says, like he's flipping through files in his big giant brain. "I'd suck you off so good, all the tricks in the book, you know -- do you know? Christ, don't answer that -- deep-throating, that swirly thing I learned in -- well, that's classified -- I'd make it so good for you."

"Of course you would," Peter says. "I want -- I mean, I would want that. For you to be good for me."

Tony groans. "Oh, kid," he says. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

Peter smiles, hoping it looks hot and predatory rather than dorky as hell. "You think?"

"Just -- oh, God, kid --" Tony breaks off and gasps.

Peter's pretty sure he's jerking off, too, but he wants to know for sure. "Give me a better camera angle," he demands. "I want to see you."

"You can see plenty," Tony says, but he gets the camera to pan out anyway, and oh, yeah, that's Tony's dick flashing in and out of his fist, just like Peter hoped.

"Good," he says, then, taking another leap, "good boy," and from the way Tony's whole body jerks, he's hit home. "Yeah, you're a good boy, Tony, you'd be so good for me --"

Tony comes all over himself, and wow, that's incredibly hot to watch when he knows it's because of _him_. And then he says, "Your turn, kid," and it would just be rude not to -- oh --

"So," Tony says, a minute or so later, "that's the hottest thing that's ever happened to me. Congrats on that."

Peter huffs. "You've been to _orgies_ ," he points out. "We just --"

"We didn't _just_ anything, kid." Tony's voice is both stern and soft, somehow, and then it turns light when he adds, "What, wasn't it magical for you?"

Peter's not an idiot. "Yeah," he says. "It was."

"Well -- well, good."

"Don't forget my chair... old man," Peter says, and he disconnects on Tony's squawk of outrage.

***

In the morning, there's an absurdly comfy chair waiting in the hallway, and on the seat is a box of chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of champagne. Peter contemplates bringing it to the lab; watching Shuri's insistence on lab safety protocol battle with her sweet tooth would be hilarious. On the other hand... do those jerks really deserve his morning-after treats?

Yeah, he decides. He'll share. He can afford to be generous. After all, he's got a sugar daddy.


End file.
